


Connor Goes Speed Dating (And Speed Breaking Up)

by EmeraldAshes



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Connor Deserves Happiness, Everyone Deserves Happiness Dammit, F/F, Fluff, Jealous Connor, M/M, Murphy Sibling Bonding, Radical honesty, Speed Dating, Weird flirting, mentions of past suicide attempts, murphy siblings getting along
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-19 23:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11908020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldAshes/pseuds/EmeraldAshes
Summary: “I’m going to answer every question with complete honesty and let that scare everyone off.”





	Connor Goes Speed Dating (And Speed Breaking Up)

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by People Watching’s Speed Dating video. There’s also a smidge of XKCD influence and a couple low-key expies.

“I seriously owe you for this,” Zoe said as they pulled up to the bar.

Connor stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind him. “You realize that the only people who go to these things are desperate losers who don’t know how to interact with people, right?”

Zoe smirked, toying with her hair as she waited by the hood. “So your kind of crowd?”

He smacked her arm, and she smacked him back harder.

“Seriously, though, it’s sort of cool. Under 30 queer speed dating. Perfect for your average bi girl with below average gaydar skills”—Zoe did jazz hands—“and maybe her creepy brother will find true love.”

Connor rolled his eyes, “Yeah, no. Not gonna happen.”

“Don’t act so sure. You look really nice tonight.”

Connor looked disdainfully down at the green button-down shirt Zoe had insisted he wear. “That’s not going to matter. I have a plan.”

Zoe crossed her arms. “You are not getting me kicked out of another bar.”

“Not that kind of plan,” Connor said as they walked toward the door. “I’m going to be myself.”

“Spooky,” she said flatly.

“None of that first date honey-coating bullshit. I’m going to answer every question with complete honesty and let that scare everyone off.”

“Well, you do you, weirdo.” Zoe giggled as she took a number from the front and grabbed a seat. Connor got a drink from the bar and found a table of his own.

Connor’s first date was a tiny blonde in a lace dress that was, at minimum, a size too small. Brooke was good-looking and kept staring at his lips, which was a nice ego trip, but she was way too normal to ever deal with his bullshit. “So, like, what are your hobbies?”

“Smoking pot, arguing with assholes on the internet, and writing poetry.”

“Poetry! That’s cool. What do you write?”—she smiled, leaning forward—“Love poems?”

Connor took a sip of his drink. The bartender had a heavy hand with the gin. Good. “The one I’m working on now is about an old woman who dies and is eaten by her cats, told from the cat’s perspective.”

Her smile fell. “Oh…”

“It’s a metaphor for the human condition.”

Brooke abruptly stood. “I should go. Like, to the bathroom. Super nice meeting you.”

Connor played on his phone until the next person sat down. “Hi! I’m Alana Beck.”

Connor looked at her outstretched hand, thinking for a long moment before reluctantly shaking it. “Connor. My sexuality is 90/10 favoring guys, so...”

Alana smoothed her skirt and sat down. “That’s interesting. I find it so limiting how we try to quantify sexuality with the Kinsey Scale or labels such as bisexual when it’s more of a spectrum. You’re Zoe’s brother, right? I just came from her table, and she mentioned you. I was wondering—”

“If she likes pretentious chicks in glasses?” Connor said.

Alana adjusted her glasses. “That was not what I was going to say, but now that it’s out there, I find myself curious as to the answer, yes.”

Connor smirked. “Her first lesbian crush was that nerdy girl from Modern Family. You’ll be fine.”

“That’s good to know. What are her thoughts on bowling?”

By the end of their four-minute session, Alana had planned out her next three dates with Zoe and had a firm game-plan for asking her out after the speed dating session ended. Connor solemnly wished her good luck.

A grinning guy with bug eyes slid into the seat in front of Connor. “Loving the haircut. It’s like…Charles Manson: The Early Years.”

Connor stared at him.

“It’s a joke. Haha?”

Connor continued staring.

The asshole forged bravely onward. “I’m Jared.”

Connor’s voice was flat. “You probably spend a lot of time wondering why nobody likes you. I’m going to help you out here and tell you _explicitly._ ”

Jared raised his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“Don’t interrupt. I’m not sure I can get through everything in four minutes, and I am never speaking to you again after this. I’ll start with your clothes and then dive into the sewer of your terrible personality.”

* * *

Jared shot away from Connor’s table as soon as the bell dinged.

“Also, you are a coward!” Connor yelled after him.

“What the hell was that about?” Zoe said as she sat down next to him.

“He tried to neg me. Why are _you_ here?”

Zoe played with her hair. “Bad life decisions.”

“I meant sitting with your brother when you should be dating or something.”

Zoe shrugged. “I needed a break. I figured we could, like, football huddle. How’s everything going with you?”

“So far, my best date was spent teaching Alana how to get into your pants.”

Zoe wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”

“Daffodils, vanilla fudge, and group sports.” Connor ticked each item off on his fingers.

“Kind of terrifying you know that, but thanks, I think. I’ll probably say yes if she asks me out. My other dates were pretty meh. Like, this one guy was tall, handsome, seemed super nice and not _that_ dumb, and then he just drops that his parents are on the run from the law like that’s totally normal. The other one was sweet, I guess, but he reminds me of the guys I used to date in high school. Way too insecure. I end up on a pedestal, and then I get resentful, and then he gets resentful”—Zoe rolled her eyes—“No thanks.”

“I’m actually having a decent time,” Connor remarked, holding up his gin and tonic. “I think it’s all the alcohol. I’m two drinks in and feeling really good about that.”

Zoe stole a sip from his glass, licking her lips. “Dude, it’s been like 20 minutes.”

The bell dinged.

A young man moved to hover awkwardly behind the newly empty chair. He twisted his hands, and he stared at the table. “E-Evan. I’m Evan. Hi.”

Evan looked up briefly, and his eyes stole Connor’s breath. Not for any of the usual bullshit reasons he was used to—Ooh, what a pretty blue! Oh my, are there two colors?—but because they were so fucking innocent. Whoever wrote about the soul being in the eyes probably knew someone with eyes like Evan’s.

The mixture of butterflies and terror roiling in his gut was definitely a new sensation. Connor cleared his throat. “I’m Connor. You should sit.”

Evan stumbled into his seat, flashing Connor an embarrassed smile when he settled. Fuck fuck fuck. Connor needed to stop this before it exploded in their faces and left them both burned.

“I am the human equivalent of a ticking time bomb,” Connor said. “I’m in therapy and on medication, and people tell me it’s helping, but I can’t quite shake the feeling that it’s all bullshit. When in a relationship, I swing between too clingy and disappearing for a week. I’ll also take pretty much anything you say as proof that you hate me and are planning to humiliate me later. Everyone I’ve dated has had the good sense to get out within three weeks. I’m currently deciding between dying alone and wandering the Earth destroying partners’ self-esteem like the asshole version of Johnny Appleseed.”

Evan looked very, very confused, and then he leaned forward, nodding. There was this shine to his eyes, something about the lighting probably, and Connor was fucked.

“No, yeah, I g-get that. I mean, I’ve a-already decided you hate me, and we’ve been talking for less than a m-minute. My longest girlfriend lasted six months, but I, um, wasn’t even…I wanted to b-break up a week in, but I couldn’t b-buck up enough to have the conver-versation. Also, r-really, who else would want me? And I do the cling then silent thing because who wants to hear from me? I mean, geez, the only thing I’ve eaten today is peanut butter because the s-self-checkout at the grocery store is broken and God forbid I have to talk to someone so I can eat actual people food.”

Connor was tempted to talk about books or celebrities or anything else that wouldn’t make Evan leave. But that wouldn’t be fair. “I’m a cutter.”

Evan rubbed the back of his head, mussing his hair. “I always th-thought about cutting, but I have no…I’m not good with pain. Um, I tr-tried to commit suicide once.”

This was starting to remind Connor of group therapy at rehab. He had a bad tendency of getting competitive during sharing circle. He smiled, shark-like. “Just once? I tried three times, but people kept fucking finding me.”

Evan had a gleam in his eyes and a slight quirk to his lips. “L-lucky. I had to hike three miles and drive myself to the ER.”

Connor snorted. “That is the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

Evan laughed. “I know…s-so anything else we have in common? How’s your relationship with your father?”

“Terrible.”

Evan picked at his fingers, eyes on the table but a smile on his lips. He glanced up to meet Connor’s eyes. “D-do you want to—”

A woman with bright pink hair tapped Evan’s shoulder. “Um, I kind of hate to break this up, but the bell rang, eh?”

“S-sorry.” Then Evan stood up and fucking left.

“Good date?” the woman asked as she sat down.

Connor glared at her. “Let’s talk about _politics._ ”

Evan kept glancing at Connor during through the next two dates until the damned event ended. Connor knew that because he blatantly stared at Evan for that entire time. To be fair, Connor _had_ mentioned being clingy. Evan was warned, and if this scared him off, then good. He should probably find someone better anyway.

As soon as the final bell dinged, Connor was on his feet and moving across the bar.

Zoe called out, “Yo, I’m ditching you to get drinks with Alana.”

“Cool,” Connor said, continuing past.

Jared, who had been talking to Evan, immediately bolted when Connor approached. Evan watched him go with a slightly hurt look. “H-he was my ride.”

Connor called out, “Evan!”

The look vanished, replaced by a hopeful one. Evan tugged down his shirt. “Oh, h-hi.”

Connor stood in front of him, looking down at his brown eyes. “You haven’t eaten today.”

“N-no, well kinda, but no,” Evan mumbled.

Connor smiled, nerves choking him slightly. “Want to get nachos or something? I’ll order.”

Evan smiled back. “Y-yeah, that sounds good.”

Connor stayed close to Evan, their hands bumping as they walked towards the restaurant area of the bar. “Just to clarify, I definitely don’t hate you _._ ”

Evan grabbed Connor’s hand. “I, um, don’t hate you either. Like, at all.”

That shouldn’t have felt so fucking romantic, but honestly? Connor had always been weird.

**Author's Note:**

> Cut from Zoe’s terrible dates: There was this one guy whose opening line was the lyrics to that Pina Colada song. I was like, “Good song,” and then he got really offended. I spent the rest of the time trying to figure out why he got so pissy about it, but I’m still super confused.
> 
> Also, I was playing around with an AU based on the most pathetic poetry reading I ever went to, and I totally wrote Connor's creepy poem...admittedly, I had an advantage there since I'm almost incapable of writing a poem that isn't horrifically gory. No promises on if that AU is gonna come to fruition, btw.


End file.
